Flannel, football, and crisp fall air. Little black spiders crawl over pumpkins. The old, electric coil heater rattles back to life. Cloth on the ragged scarecrow rustles against his straw stuffing. The sign says, “haunted house: enter at your own risk.” Briar patches turn from summer green to brown with the October frost. Leaves are no longer red, orange, or yellow, but dry and drab under my feet. Frosty gourds sit in the backyard, The cold dew making them shine in the moonlight. The sun begins to rise, peeking out over the pine trees.
Revised:
Flannel and football. Crisp fall air creeps under my scarf.
Little black spiders crawl over pumpkins.
The old, electric coil heater rattles back to life as leaves fall to the sidewalk.
Cloth on the ragged scarecrow rustles against his straw stuffing.
The signs of autumn are making themselves more clear.
Briar patches turn from summer green to brown with the October frost.
Leaves are no longer red, orange, or yellow, but dry and drab under my feet.
Frosty gourds sit in the backyard,
The cold dew making them shine in the moonlight.
The sun begins to rise, peeking out over the pine trees.
Flannel, football, and crisp fall air.
Little black spiders crawl over pumpkins.
The old, electric coil heater rattles back to life.
Cloth on the ragged scarecrow rustles against his straw stuffing.
The sign says, “haunted house: enter at your own risk.”
Briar patches turn from summer green to brown with the October frost.
Leaves are no longer red, orange, or yellow, but dry and drab under my feet.
Frosty gourds sit in the backyard,
The cold dew making them shine in the moonlight.
The sun begins to rise, peeking out over the pine trees.
Revised:
Flannel and football. Crisp fall air creeps under my scarf.
Little black spiders crawl over pumpkins.
The old, electric coil heater rattles back to life as leaves fall to the sidewalk.
Cloth on the ragged scarecrow rustles against his straw stuffing.
The signs of autumn are making themselves more clear.
Briar patches turn from summer green to brown with the October frost.
Leaves are no longer red, orange, or yellow, but dry and drab under my feet.
Frosty gourds sit in the backyard,
The cold dew making them shine in the moonlight.
The sun begins to rise, peeking out over the pine trees.